Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme
by Lady Eleanor Boleyn
Summary: One Night, Adele Skye, governess to the Black daughters is left in charge. She decides to tell them a bedtime story... Challenge response.


**AN: I don't own either the Black Sisters, the song Scarborough Fair or Impossible, the book that inspired this. Please enjoy. 1810 words, I'm afraid. I'll work on doing better next time!**

"Bellatrix! Andromeda! Narcissa! Come down here!" At the sound of their father's voice, the three girls playing along the hallway glanced at each other and then ran to do as he said, slipping and sliding on the polished oaken steps of the staircase. Appearing breathlessly at the door of their father's study, they stood quietly, waiting for whatever it was he wanted to say to them.

Cygnus Black regarded his daughters' slightly ruffled appearance with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing. Druella would scold them all enough for two, most likely.

Instead he merely told them "Your mother and I are going out this evening, so your governess, Miss Skye, will be keeping an eye on you. You are not to give her any trouble. If I find that you have, I will be most displeased. There will be consequences. Is that clear?"

Cygnus fixed a steely gaze on his eldest, nine year old Bellatrix, as he spoke. Bella was the firebrand of the family. If trouble came, it was likely to come from her... though, having said that, she was also very good at influencing her younger sisters.

And at looking as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Bellatrix met his eye fearlessly and curtsied demurely. "Of course not, Papa. We wouldn't dream of it, would we, Cissy? Meda?"

"Of course not!"

Holding his hands up in surrender as his daughters fell over themselves to assure him of their good behaviour, Cygnus chuckled despite himself.

"Very well, girls. I'll believe you. You may go."

He had barely finished speaking when the girls tore from the room.

* * *

That night, Adele Skye, governess and part time secretary to the Black family, went into the youngest girl's room to find her sitting at her dressing table, while a House elf teetered precariously on a stool behind her, brushing her golden curls.

"I'll do that, Hoppy. You may go."

"As Miss Skye wishes." Hoppy bowed, handing her the emerald studded brush and jumping down from the stool gratefully. "Hoppy is on stroke 37 of 200."

"I see." Though Adele privately thought brushing Narcissa's hair 200 times every morning and evening was over the top – the child was only five, after all - it was done on Lady Druella's orders, so she wasn't about to argue.

Crossing the room so that she stood behind Narcissa's shoulders, she started to coax the brush through the cloud of curls, counting out loud as she did so "37...38...39..."

"Don't!" Narcissa wailed.

"Don't what, Miss Narcissa?" Adele asked, brushing her fortieth and forty first strokes as she spoke.

"Don't count! Please, Miss Skye! I hate knowing how much longer I have to sit here waiting for my hair to be finished. I hate it! I hate it!"

Narcissa's voice had risen to within an inch of hysteria, and tears had begun to pool in her cornflower blue eyes. Recognising the signs that usually preceded a tantrum and eager to head it off, decided to suggest an alternative.

"All right, Miss Narcissa. I won't. Shall I sing instead; sing a song my mother taught me?"

The smile Adele was rewarded with was almost like a blaze of sunlight, it was so bright, "Yes please, Miss Skye!"

"All right then." Taking a deep breath , Adele pulled the brush through Narcissa's flaxen locks a few more times before beginning to sing.

**"Are you going to Scarborough Fair?**

**Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme**

**Remember me to one who lives there**

**She must be a true love of mine"**

"That's pretty." Narcissa exclaimed. "I've never heard it before. What is it?"

"The Elfin Knight. It's a Muggle song from Scotland. My mother used to sing it for me when I was little. There's a story to go with it. Do you want to hear it?"

"Oh, yes please!"

"All right then. Jump into bed and I'll tell you, if you don't tell your mother that I didn't finish brushing your hair."

"I won't! I promise I won't!"

"Come on then. Just this once." Adele smiled despite herself. Narcissa was so rarely interested in anything, that it was a pleasure to see her beaming and laughing like any other five year old. Before she could react however, Narcissa had dashed to her bedroom door, shouting "Bella, Meda! Miss Skye's going to tell us a story. Come on!"

"They might not be interested, Miss Narcissa." Adele, who had never heard of the older Black sisters sitting to listen to anything as childish as a bedtime story, tried to warn the angelic child, in case her sisters didn't arrive in answer to the summons. Narcissa turned her golden head with a frighteningly adult composure. "They will be."

And indeed, the words had barely left Narcissa's mouth before the older girls appeared at the end of the landing.

"What is it, Cissy?"

"Miss Skye's going to tell us a story. Come on!"

Narcissa caught her sister's hands and pulled them into the room after her, bouncing into bed and letting Andromeda tuck the covers around her before they all looked expectantly at Adele, who cleared her throat self-conciously.

Deciding the best way to start was to sing the whole song, she moistened her lips and then raised her voice, losing herself in the words within moments.

**"Are you going to Scarborough Fair?**

**Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme**

**Remember me to one who lives there**

**She must be a true love of mine**

**Tell her she'll sleep in a goose-feather bed**

**Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme**

**Tell her I swear she'll have nothing to dread**

**She must be a true love of mine**

**Tell her tomorrow her answer make known**

**Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme**

**What e'er she may say I'll not leave her alone**

**She must be a true love of mine**

**Her answer it came in a week and a day**

**Parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme**

**I'm sorry, good sir, I must answer thee nay**

**I'll not be a true of thine**

**From the sting of my curse she can never be free**

**Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme**

**Unless she unravels my riddling three**

**She will be a true love of mine**

**Tell her to make me a magical shirt**

**Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme**

**Without any seam or needlework**

**Else she'll be a true love of mine**

**Tell her to find me an acre of land**

**Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme**

**Between the salt water and the sea strand**

**Else she'll be a true love of mine**

**Tell her to plough it with just a goat's horn**

**Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme**

**And sow it all over with one grain of corn**

**Else she'll be a true love of mine**

**And her daughters forever possessions of mine"**

"That's pretty, but what's the story?" This time, it was seven year old Andromeda who spoke. Adele sighed. She might have known that young Pureblood witches like the Black girls wouldn't understand. They probably didn't even know what a ballad was.

"The song itself is a story, Miss Andromeda. If you listen carefully, you'll hear it. It's about a young Muggle girl, who's not more than 16 or 17 years old. She catches the eye of a magical Elfin Knight. He wants to marry her, but she's already married to a man she loves. She has a family of her own. She won't go with him and leave her family, so he curses her. He uses his magic to make her pregnant and then curses her. If she doesn't do the tasks that the song says she must, that is; sew a shirt without a needle or seam, find an acre of land between land and sea and plough it all using just one grain of corn and a goat's horn for a plough, by the time the baby's born, then he'll claim her for his own forever. And he'll claim her daughters too, and theirs. All the way down the family, generation after generation, until someone finds a way to do what the song says and break the curse."

"You mean she'll never get to be with her husband, her real husband? Her family? That's so sad!" Narcissa's cornflower blue eyes were wide, stricken. Adele moved to comfort her, but Andromeda got there first.

"It's okay, Cissy. It's just a story. Curses like that don't exist, you know that. Not ones that go down the family. That's impossible."

"Well I think it's silly!" Nine year old Bellatrix's eyes flashed dangerously dark. "Love's stupid."

"I thought that too when I was your age, Miss Bellatrix, but things will change. You'll see." Adele smiled indulgently at the eldest daughter of the House of Black, unleashing her temper.

"I won't! I won't see anything! I'm not going to fall in love. I'm going to be powerful instead. I'll be another Morgana; the most powerful witch the world's ever seen. And you, Miss Skye, you filthy half-blood weakling, will never stop me!"

With that, Bellatrix leapt up, storming from the room. Knowing it was always best to leave the eldest Black girl alone when she was like this, Adele ignored her outburst, turning to Andromeda instead.

"I think you'd better go to bed, Miss Andromeda. It's getting late."

"Yes, Miss Skye. Goodnight, Cissy. Sleep well." Andromeda kissed Narcissa gently before getting to her feet.

"I'll see you back to your room, Miss Andromeda. Goodnight, Miss Narcissa."

Adele walked Andromeda down the hall to her bedroom, and stood by the door, waiting for the girl to settle down beneath the covers of her sumptuous four poster.

She was about to blow out the candle that lit the room, when Andromeda suddenly spoke. "The Elfin Knight wasn't a good lover, was he?"

Taken aback by the question, Adele took a moment or two to respond.

"No, Miss Andromeda." she said at last. "He wasn't. He demanded too much of the girl he claimed to love. The tasks he set her were impossible. He demanded perfection, and she couldn't give it to him; so she was trapped. As anyone would be."

"He's like my family then." Andromeda's voice was small. "We're Toujours Pur; Always Pure. We're expected to be perfect."

Adele's heart lurched. Andromeda looked so young in the candlelight, so insecure, so bereft. Every maternal instinct in Adele screamed at her to take the child into her arms and hold her, reassure her, care for her. However, one didn't do that to one's employer's children, particularly if those children were of the House of Black.

So, instead of doing what she felt she ought to, Adele merely sighed.

"I have to go and finish writing out some papers for your father. I'll be in his study if anyone needs me. Goodnight, Miss Andromeda."

She didn't even wait for the girl to respond before she blew out the candle and went downstairs.


End file.
